A Troublesome Love
by Vaako
Summary: Shikamaru has fallen in love with someone very troublesome. Slash


A Troublesome Love

Shikamaru couldn't pinpoint when it first began, but he could pinpoint the exact moment down to the second that he realised that something _had_ begun; it was this moment; this second - these seconds – as he was still realising the enormity of the shit he was in, even now.

It really was an enormous pile of shit he was in. The metaphorical stench of the symbolic shit was stinking his life up, keeping him awake at night. It was sickening. This whole train of thought was sickening too. He was going to stop thinking about it, and move on.

Heaving a sigh, he looked up at the clouds floating by, careless and free… something that usually left him wistful, content. But he couldn't focus, or un-focus, or _whatever_. He wished he could be like the clouds, impartial, passing through, far away… If only _He_ hadn't come along and messed everything up.

Shikamaru was in love…. with a man. An older man; an irritating man; an intentionally infuriating man; it just gets better and better.

Shikamaru had been in love before, and while it hadn't been easy to push his feelings aside when need be, it hadn't been this hard either. It worried him. He'd always felt so confident that he could do that, that he could turn off his emotions… but had he really been in love those times? Because he hadn't felt like this. He lay in bed, wanting to run to the older man and profess his undying love and lust. He wanted to tell people. He wanted to confess his secret to everyone, it was stupid, but he did. He wanted to stare at the object of his affections, and though he told himself not to, he couldn't help himself. It was humiliating. He wanted to be with him, but he also hated him for making him weak, for being oblivious…

The terrible, aching longing was overwhelming Shikamaru so much, that he'd started to become unwell, unsettled.

People had noticed and he wanted to reassure them, to deny their worries, their guesses… but he didn't want to talk about it. It was bothersome. It was a phase, he had decided, and he wanted to forget this ever happened… he wanted to clear his head, fill it again with clouds and be at peace.

Peace, he could feel it now. He was relaxing, now. He had found a silent, secluded clearing – one he didn't use often, so no one would come looking for him here. There was no one around; nothing was here to distract him but his thoughts… his thoughts that were trying again to focus on a certain someone.

"Yo," said that certain someone.

'You have got to be kidding me,' thought Shikamaru. This was a definite Speak of the Devil moment, or should that be Think of the Devil? Think of the Devil for countless months, think and dream and pray and cry, yes cry in despair in the night, and he will come? Shikamaru wanted to kiss him, he wanted to hold him tight and never let go, he wanted to push him away and run away and never come back, but all he said was, "How bothersome."

He didn't look up; he didn't look away from the sky and the clouds. He acted as if he were distracted, he acted as if his mind was up in the clouds, and drifting by… he acted as if his heart wasn't racing, as if his pupils weren't shot wide with love, as if heat wasn't creeping up his neck and into his face. And his mind, it was here, in the now, racing with his heart …working with his heart; thinking fast, this option and that. 'How can I make him love me back in this moment?' his heart was aching.

'Not by acting casual, not by ignoring him. Look at him, look him in the eye and show him who you are,' replied his mind.

Shikamaru flicked his eyes to the shadow standing in his peripheral vision. Eyes met his. His eyes flicked back to the clouds. Pathetic, this wasn't who he was… The shadow crouched beside him, a little too close. Shikamaru draped an arm over his eyes and tried not to think, tried not to _anything_.

"You do look bothered," replied the man, "what's troubling you?"

He was worried. _He _was worried about him. Shikamaru felt his heart soar, sink and soar; This man, this beloved man cared for him, but on the other hand this man had noticed something was bothering him, perhaps he even knew what exactly. A thrill shot through Shikamaru and he wondered; 'when had it first begun?' he just couldn't seem to remember. He only knew that one day he realised that Kakashi had been turning up all over the place, in a lot of unexpected places.

And then today he realised that _Kakashi_ wasn't turning up in unexpected places – _he_ was! It was _him_ – _Shikamaru_ – who was turning up where he knew Kakashi would be, and worse: he couldn't remember when he'd started doing it!

So he'd broken his little habitual routine this very morning, and come here instead. It was time to put this all behind him, he had to take these steps… he had to stop... so he'd… he'd come here to avoid Kakashi, to stop following him. And here Kakashi was.

Something was occurring to Shikamaru.

He slid his arm off of his face and looked Kakashi in the eye, "Was there something in particular you needed, Kakashi?"

Kakashi was watching him intently, his eyes travelled over Shikamaru's face, pausing ever so shortly on the younger man's lips. "No," he replied, and he looked away.

These appearances, they were not always coincidence on Shikamaru's part, but neither were they always on purpose; like today. Kakashi was seeking him out too, but either he didn't realise it, or he couldn't accept it. Shikamaru's heart wasn't racing now, so much as stomping. He sat up slowly.

"Does anyone need me for something?" he had to make sure, he had to know for sure…

"I – no."

Shikamaru sighed heavily. His day was ruined, this couldn't go anyway but sour, he rolled his eyes to the sky and asked, "Are you sure _you're_ not the troubled one?"

There was no reply for a second or too, and he looked back to Kakashi, who was smiling.

"No," said Kakashi.

"You might not be troubled," said Shikamaru, getting to his feet and looking down at the other man, "but you _are_ troublesome."

Kakashi was looking up at him, and Shikamaru was looking down. He wasn't sure if it was the change in heights, perhaps it gave him a boost in confidence, perhaps it instinctively put him in a position of power, but he reached out and placed a hand on the older man's clothed cheek, and blinked rapidly, involuntarily, before slipping his hand to the back of the Kakashi's head. He tangled his fingers in surprisingly coarse grey hair, and leant in slowly. He met a grey eye, watching him, just watching. He saw no negative reaction, but there was not a positive one. There was nothing. Shikamaru leaned the rest of the way quickly, shutting his eyes, closing off the world.

He placed one chaste kiss on those masked lips, and pulled away, and _walked_ away. He didn't -_couldn't_ wait to hear what Kakashi would say, he didn't want to know. 'Please let me have just that,' he pleaded in his head, and then, 'I should have kissed him differently, if I pulled down his mask, maybe he would have kissed me back. Maybe he would have kissed me back, if I had kissed him a bit longer.' But then again, maybe he wouldn't have, and Shikamaru felt strangely fragile. He couldn't face the expected rejection.

He was an emotional mess. Through this haze of anxiety, Shikamaru muttered one word, "Bothersome."

He was quickly deciding that he'd never actually been in love before now, because this was difficult. Love made you dance around problems that could be taken care of easily and painlessly in normal circumstances. If only he'd never fallen in true love, if only… Shikamaru paused mid-step in a busy street. What had he just thought? True love? Really? True, love?

He continued walking, almost chucking to himself. It was ridiculous. True love didn't exist, he was probably just gay, not bisexual. After all he'd only 'loved' girls before. A pretty woman brushed against him, she met his eyes, blushed and hurried away. For a second, her bare cleavage had pressed onto his arm.

Shikamaru was unmoved, so he paid extra attention to the handsome man stalking passed. The handsome man stared straight into Shikamaru's _unimpressed_ eyes and continued out of sight, and to be honest Shikamaru had to admit he was a little shocked that he found that man unattractive as well.

He should probably check out more people if he wanted to be sure, but he had a terrible feeling that he was just inappropriately obsessed – and sexually obsessed at that too – with Team Seven's old teacher.

He could have lived with being gay, or bisexual, or even asexual… but this? _This?_ It was unbearable, it was unbelievable, it was…

"Troublesome."

What he really needed was some sleep. He needed to rest. He needed to forget about Kakashi and the fact that he had kissed him. He didn't want to think about it today, because he worked with the guy, and he had work tomorrow, and how was he supposed to face Kakashi after this? If Shikamaru's obsession hadn't been clear before, it would be now. Kakashi was probably remembering all those times they'd bumped into each other with a creepy feeling.

Shikamaru dwelled on these thoughts for an indecipherable amount of time, before coming out of it to see that he was standing in front of his door, keys in hand, and probably had been for quite some while. He shook his head and turned the key in the lock. Inside his apartment was dark, and cool, and empty.

He headed straight for the bed and dropped onto it. On the ceiling were a multitude of badly painted clouds, courtesy of his friends; Ino and Chouji. They had decided his lonely apartment needed some cheering up. He cracked a smile thinking of them, and then his doorbell rang, and he frowned.

There was a small chance that a possibly angry, possibly furious, masked man would be waiting outside. The bell rang again and again and again, in quick succession. There were only three people who rang his doorbell like that, and seeing as Naruto and Lee hardly ever came to his apartment, it must be Kiba.

The doorbell jangled again, gratingly and he went to the door. He flicked the lock and the door swung open. He'd been so distracted lately, and this day was no different. The door hit him on the head. Kiba stood there, mouth agape as Shikamaru held his forehead. The door was slowly creaking closed, Kiba had just opened his mouth to apologise, and Shikamaru slammed the door shut.

He felt at his head; humiliation and humour warring. His hand came away wet with blood. Head wounds always bleed heavily, even the little ones. He'd known it was going to be a lame day. He'd had worse days, he knew, much worse. But this wasn't a good day either. He walked to his small bathroom to get a look in the mirror.

There was a dent smack in the middle of his forehead and it was bleeding, and it was very unattractive. He wrapped a bandage around his head. He'd probably get double black eyes from this, as well. Typical Kiba, typical freaking Kiba.

Typical freaking Kiba screaming outside: "I'm, sorry, Shika-maru!"

Shikamaru perched himself on the edge of his rickety old sink and leant out of the window. The sunset was beautiful, he saw, and then he looked down, down, down into hell and there was Kiba.

"Forget about it, Kiba. See you tomorrow. I'm tired." Tired of everything... Maybe he was just grumpy about the door-thing.

"…see you tomorrow," agreed Kiba, and then Shikamaru was retreating from the window and closing it after him. He didn't bother changing out of his clothes, these clothes that he had kissed Kakashi in. He crawled into bed and willed the next day to hurry.

He woke in the night and lay silent, listening. Someone moved in the room. Shikamaru made an aborted attempt to get out of the bed, and they were on him, over him, hands pinning his shoulders, one knee on the bed, the other across his thighs.

A moment of nothing but breathing and confusion, and then Shikamaru breathed, _"Kakashi?" _Kakashi did not reply, and Shikamaru said louder, more determined, "Kakashi-?"

The older man covered his mouth, just for a second, and then his hand flitted away to hover between them almost touching, but not. Then the hand pinning his shoulder slipped to beside Shikamaru's head, and the knee pinning his was gone to. What was a shocking moment became something else, as Kakashi half-sat half-lay beside him.

Shikamaru took that hovering hand in his and felt warm, rough skin, and felt warm, rough fabric, and the cold smooth metal guard. Kakashi gripped his hand back tightly, and Shikamaru, moved by the moment, kissed those rough fingertips.

Stiff material and leather creaked beside him as Kakashi leant closer. Shikamaru wanted to kiss him, so he did, only for Kakashi to turn his face away. But before the younger man could feel offended, his lips were back, without his mask. Shikamaru tried to pull him as close as he could get, but his covers were in the way. He threw the covers from the bed, and while Kakashi used this moment to get closer – it didn't seem close enough. Shikamaru couldn't hold him close enough; he couldn't hold him tight enough. A kind of despair was upon him, a terrible aching despair through the pleasure and the happiness.

Before he knew it he was sobbing into the kiss, tears running down his face. Kakashi was trying to pull away and Shikamaru was hanging on like a freak. He didn't want Kakashi to stop, and pull away and never come back. Shikamaru was not himself, he needed anchoring, and he needed this man. Maybe he was having a breakdown.

Kakashi had managed to extricate himself, and Shikamaru was lying, head turned away. He couldn't watch.

But then he was being rolled to the older man's side, his head was being turned to press into the crook of his neck. While pressed there, calming down, Shikamaru noted slight tremors suggesting that Kakashi too, was crying.

"The loss is finally catching up with us," murmured Shikamaru. He had no idea of how long they lay there. It was nowhere near dawn when he fell asleep to Kakashi whispering in his ear, "I love you, I love you." He didn't think he'd ever felt so content in his life.

He woke to a grey dawn, cold, alone. The feeling of contentedness fled soon after he opened his eyes. His covers were on the floor, and Kakashi was not beside him, or anywhere else in the flat. The covers could mean nothing; perhaps he'd dreamt the whole thing. He'd probably had. He'd just dreamt the whole thing.

It was 7:45am and he had fifteen minutes to meet up with the old gang. As he brushed his teeth he managed to convince himself that people would know what he'd dreamt about the night before. He looked into the mirror, to see if he could tell from his face, but what he saw surprised him. His bandages were gone, the cut on his head was gone and there was no bruising. Had he dreamt that too?

Or could it be that…could it be that Kakashi had visited him last night, and healed him among other things.

That would mean that Shikamaru really _had_ embarrassed himself by crying during their kiss. Wonderful. Just wonderful. No, it really was wonderful! This meant that Kakashi …loved him.

He had to meet his team, act like nothing else was going on – then he'd find Kakashi and they'd work things out. It would be simple.

Shikamaru scraped his hair back out of his face and washed quickly. If he saw Kakashi while he was with his friends, he'd go by the way the man acted towards him. He'd wing it. It was a quick run down to the bridge where the teams met up now, so once it was in view he slowed to a leisurely stroll so he could prepare himself, settle his mind, and … maybe daydream a bit.

It was a dull morning with plenty of clouds. No picking shapes out of these clouds, it seemed one great mess, but it was pleasant to watch their ever-changing forms, not unlike watching a flame, just… slower.

Despite this he couldn't help but notice the yellow-haired man running full-pelt at him from the bridge.

"Shikamaru!" shouted Naruto, "Shikamaru!"

Shikamaru waved to him, lazily. It was too grey a day for shouting.

"Shikamaru!" shouted Naruto.

Shikamaru dropped his hand and stopped walking, concerned.

"Shikamaru!" Naruto shouted again, "Shikamaru!"

"Yes. Yes, Naruto, what is it?" he asked when the other man was closer, it sounded urgent but you could never tell with Naruto, "_What is it?_"

"I _need to talk to you!_"

"Talk away," he made sure he sounded unconcerned, but inside a jolt of electric worry peeped 'I hope he doesn't know, how could he know?'

"Well," began Naruto, peering around to make sure no one was listening, "yesterday I was training with my team, and Kakashi-"

Shikamaru's heart thudded.

"-said he had to leave early, because he had something important to do-"

Shikamaru's heart leapt.

"- and that left me and Sasuke – 'cause Sakura left too – and I was beating Sasuke – in a fight – I was winning of course! At least until that bastard cheated! Again! And, and Shikamaru, he pinned me. But. And, and _Shikamaru_ you can't tell anyone, it was so weird, and stupid. I don't know why! I don't know why, Shikamaru, help me!"

"Calm down, Naruto. You need to explain what happened, did he hurt you?" Shikamaru cared and worried for Naruto, especially when it came to Sasuke who was the only one who could hurt Naruto as he often did.

"Okay," Naruto took a deep breath and glanced around again, "When he pinned me… I started to think he… looked really pretty. _Shikamaru! Help me!_" his hands were clenched in his hair, "and he kissed me back, and we kissed. _We kissed!_ And now I think he hates me. And, and now – EEK! There he is!" his shriek sent bird flying from the rooftops, and Shikamaru, who was feeling jumpy, leapt away from his blond friend.

Now everyone was looking at them, and their friends were waving to them from the bridge. Shikamaru, now slightly grumpier than he had been upon leaving his flat trudged along beside Naruto, who was freaking out, trying to calm him down.

He felt sympathy for his friend, he really did – they were almost in the exact same boat. It was eerie. They joined their friend, Naruto sticking close to him, asking "What do I do? What do I do?" With one look at Sasuke and the way he was watching Naruto, Shikamaru told him, "Just be yourself, you'll be fine."

Naruto and his distracting problems left, and Shikamaru, standing amongst his close friends, Ino laughing at a joke and shaking his shoulder to get his attention, Chouji eating and shaking the bag in front of his face to get his attention… he had to get away. He had to find Kakashi.

"I've gotta leave early, Chouji," he told his friend.

"Why's that?" Chouji was watching him with interest.

Shikamaru paused and then a small smile crept onto his face, "I have something important to do."

"…Okay."

He'd left the bridge and was about to turn into the road leading to the main road when he heard his name being called from close by, "Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru turned to see Kakashi, his troublesome love, walking up behind him, hands in his pockets, little orange book nowhere to be found. Shikamaru accidently let his eyes linger on strong thighs before flicking quickly up to meet warm, amused eyes. Suddenly he was burning up. He didn't know what to say, 'Hello'? 'Hey'? 'yo'? he was worrying over meaningless things, until he remembered his own advice to Naruto.

"…hey," he sounded a little shy, not as confident as he'd wanted. But Kakashi was at his side now and they were staring into each other's eyes, just standing there staring and yet some communication was passing between them, because a smile was spreading across Shikamaru's face, and Kakashi's eye was crinkling.

"Kakashi," he said warmly, but he'd never remember what he was going to say, because Kakashi was suddenly kissing him, in the street, with his friends on the bridge.

It took a while for his friends to get used to visiting Kakashi when they visited Shikamaru, but no one ever doubted they were meant for each other.

A/N: I don't know if anyone will remember this story, I uploaded it many years go. Well I rewrote it last night instead of doing my nanowrimo project. Well at least I'm writing. If anyone wants to read the original, you're welcome but it's terrible, worse than this lol. Anyway, hope it was enjoyable, despite being kinda flowery :|


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